


Session 3.1 - Stalking in the forest.

by Munnin



Series: The Darthen Empire Campaign [2]
Category: Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Bluebooking, Gen, No context outside the campaign, RPG notes, campaign diary, please ignore unless you're playing this game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 18:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18155252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: The night before the rescue at the Torn Swing, Piotr hunts mushrooms and Cass follows.





	Session 3.1 - Stalking in the forest.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, don't bother reading this unless you're playing Pathfinder with me. This is just a spot for me to host some bluebooking / out of session prose. It's not meant for anyone not playing and isn't written to make a lick of sense. I'm just appeasing the muses.
> 
> Please excuse the mangled google translate Japanese.

Cass knew she should rest. The warmth of the food and tea sat well with but there was still a thrumming in her. The low bass of adrenalin, not yet passed and still playing on her senses. Buoyed by that, she noticed movement out the corner of her eye. The young monk, Piotr. It was clear he had no aim to rest. Instead he took up a torch and a sack, slipping into darkness of the forest.

Knowing she would find no rest and still distrusting their exuberant ally a little, she followed him, slipping silently into the shadows as she kept pace, watching his back. 

It felt like a game. The sort she’d played as a _shoshinshain_ in the clan. Games of stalking, of keeping pace, of staying hidden. 

He was easy to follow, taking no pains to hide his path. She kept to the outer edges of his light, saving the night-vision she had newly earnt in case it might be needed again before they rested. Instead she used the torch’s shadow, letting her armour and her stillness mask her. 

She watched him search the ground, intent on every plant and root. Part of her thought she should break cover, offer to help. But he had no asked for help, nor company. So silent she stayed, watching his back against any that might cross them in the darkness. 

It was almost half an hour in when she stepped too carelessly, playing too close to the circle of his light. She could tell by the way he froze that he’d become aware of his shadow. And then by his smile that he’d recognised her. 

The hairs stood on the back of Piotr's neck as he sensed - more than he necessarily saw or heard - a presence nearby. Chiding himself that he was presenting an obvious target with his torch; he glanced around quickly, assessing the surrounding area - in a brief moment, he had taken full stock of his immediate area, the low-lying branch he can leap to and swing up onto; the patch of dry moss and bracken that a thrown torch will ignite nicely to provide smoke cover and a distraction. Would his foe...

“Ah,” he relaxed a little as he realised it was Cass, the quiet and secretive young woman from the group who had followed him - he was in no clear threat. 

"Funny things mushrooms..." He said clearly as he stooped to pick one. In the torchlight, it clearly had a bright red cap, dotted with white. "Some of them are amazing fried up with bacon or in a soup. But these..."

He stooped to pick another, each time wetting his hands after from his waterskin. "These will give you a BAD stomach ache - that you may not wake up from"

" _Benitengu Take_." She nodded, pulling a strip of cloth from her belt to cover her hand as she plucked one and added it to his stash. “Thief of minds. Useful in small doses to distract and befuddle.” There was something knowing in her tone, as if reciting a lesson. “But unpredictable.” 

He cocked an eyebrow at that. "I just remember one of the stage hands took me out and we picked a bunch of these when our troupe got a nasty case of rats. Not exactly a good impression on the next town if you bring a plague with you." He chuckled, "And I didn't exactly feel comfortable asking Rastus for a big pot of rat-poison"

“You mean to poison the water.” She nodded, drifting a little out to his left and vanishing into the shadows once more. “It is a pity the season is wrong for nightshade.”

Conversationally he went on, "It's funny; I know how to move quiet when I have to and you - well, I have mice that move louder than you. I reckon we let the others crash around and we can get in with things. We just need to work out a way to signal each other when we do..."

She drifted back into view, no mushrooms but a small flower in her hand, tucking it into her obi absently. A single white snow-drop, early for the season. “The clan I trained under use hand-signs. To speak in silence.” The phrasing carefully specific. Never her clan. “I can teach you.” 

The distinction was lost on him, a reminder of how far she was from her childhood lands. And yet somehow less of an outsider than she had felt in many years. 

He nodded, "The stage hands do something similar - I guess it's just down to working out something that we can both understand - then using it"

Over the remaining search, they teach each other relevant hand-signs, combining the two forms into something they can use. Directions relative to their position, stop and go, yes and no, the framing of simple questions. All one-handed so a weapon could still be ready. 

Naming the party members by sign – an outstretches finger and cocked thumb for the gunslinger. Two fingers to the upper lip for the orc-blooded fighter. A fist at the hip for the samurai, as if resting on the hilt of his katana. 

For herself, she covered the lower half of her face, mimicking the cloth half mask she had not yet pulled up. 

He smirked as he circled his finger around his ear while pointing to himself - the universal sign for lunatic.

She echoed the sign with a slight change, her hand moving outward like cloud dissipating. “ _Boke._ ” She explained, “from Manzai plays. He who seems foolish but speaks truths others cannot. As a sign, it means an attack that seems foolish but cuts to the heart.”

"You are catching on - I may need to improve my act"

She cocked her head, studying him openly for a long moment. Her dark almond eyes inscrutable. "We should get back. It will be dawn soon and your poison needs preparation." She slipped into the darkness, moving smoothly and silently. Keeping pace with him like a shadow. Just for the joy of it, she let herself fall back, coming up on the other side of him. Then slipping back again only to appear leaning against a tree ahead of him.

Not seeing her, but fully aware that she was tailing him, toying with him - even lining him up like a potential target; he grinned in the torchlight and hurried toward camp quicker. His reflexes and background made quick and easy work of the various tangled roots and snagging branches in his way, almost as if he was dancing.

Seeing him pick up the pace and accepting the challenge, she raced forward, zigging and zagging to keep him in sight but herself out of it.

Suddenly she heard his voice ring out, stark against the quiet forest sounds; but not overly loud, carrying mirth that all but completely concealing the apprehension he had for the day ahead

"Through the dark wood we boldly go,  
Where did we get to? Nobody knows.  
Was the trip folly? We searched high and low.  
With only a few pretty mushrooms to show."

His song was answered by a rare sound, a soft giggle half supressed. A sound that belied her serious nature.

She made it to the treeline of the camp just ahead of him, tucking herself out of sight to compose herself. Drawing back the veil of seriousness over a face that had, for a moment, revealed the young woman beneath. 

He shot her a wide wink as they both emerge, before boldly stepping into the centre of camp to busily prepare his "amazing trap". 

At first it seemed he was ignoring her but his bounding steps and big movements were intentional distractions, drawing nearly the entire camp's attention away from Cass for a second. Long enough for her demander to shift back to still and quiet.

She stepped into the clearing, she saw Shinokishi watching them, hand on his katana and body poised to move. He relaxed his stance as they entered the circle of light, nodding once to her before she quickly lowered his eyes. 

He had been keeping watch, standing guard over the path they had taken and now they had returned, that guard was lowered. 

She stole another glance, returning his nod with a respectful bow. She expected to see judgement there. Had she not slipped away from camp with a young man much her age? The bushi had no reasons to know her path precluded such dalliance. 

But when she caught his expression through her lashes, she saw little to none of the judgement she expected. A curiosity, perhaps. Of her or of why she had left the camp with the monk, she could not tell. And had no nerve to ask. 

Instead she rose from the bow and made her way to her bedroll to sleep, and chase what little rest there was to have before the battle was met.


End file.
